Ma Belle Vie
by sophie-the-duchess
Summary: When Belle finds obscene reading material of a sexual nature stashed in one of her books, who better to experiment with than Gaston? Romantic smut fic based on 1991 movie/characters. Belle x Gaston
1. Chapter 1

It seemed like a day just like any other day in the poor, provincial town. The baker baked; the weaver wove; the merchants sold their wares on the streets, shouting and bartering at the top of their lungs. People went about their business, bustling up and down the street, bringing the village to life in the late hours of the morning.

Little did they know, however, that today was _not_ like any other day.

A petite young woman, no older than fifteen or sixteen, with skin as pale as fresh milk and soft auburn curls that bounced lightly as she walked, made her way through the town center with a basket on her arm. Her chestnut eyes were flanked by dark, thick lashes, and her high cheekbones accentuated her youthful face in a way that would make any noblewoman seethe with jealousy. Her rosy pink lips, round and plump like a juicy peach, pursed as she walked; she was lost in thought, an oblivious expression glazing over her features as she indeliberately ignored the stares of those around her. One by one, onlookers went silent as the beautiful newcomer passed, eyes widening and mouths agape. Soon enough, the entire street was quiet, the only sound remaining the padding of her footsteps on the cobblestone as she headed towards the bookshop. A group of women nearby huddled in together to gossip amongst themselves.

There was only one person in town who dared to be the first to approach a beauty such as her.

The young woman was cut off at the door to the bookshop by the massive, looming figure of a man; he leaned his side against the wall to block her path. Startled, the girl looked up at him with wide, doe eyes.

Compared to herself, the man was enormously bulky, with muscular arms and legs as thick as tree trunks. The top few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a light smattering of fine chest hairs. His dark locks were pulled back with a ribbon, and his striking blue eyes glinted with mirth as he stared the smaller woman down. She had to admit to herself that he was rather handsome.

"New in town?" He boomed in a baritone voice that reverberated through the air, flashing her a blinding smile. The girl's eyes crinkled at the corners.

"Why, yes, I am." She laughed affably, nervously. "Hello."

"I'm Gaston," the man bellowed, flexing a bicep. "I'm sort of a big deal around here. A local celebrity, if you will. Best shot in town."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'm a hunter," Gaston clarified, waggling his eyebrows. "I can kill, skin, and gut _anything_. Can even take down a 47-point buck with a slingshot– _blindfolded_."

Where Gaston expected to be met with praise, there was none; the girl only reeled slightly with disgust, but recovered.

"My name is Belle," she curtsied, turning her chin downward and back up again. "My father's an inventor. He and I just moved here from–"

"Ah, _Belle_ ," the hunter interrupted. He enjoyed the way her name rolled off of his tongue. He also enjoyed the way her modest yet perky breasts strained against the fabric of her dress as she breathed. "Means ' _beauty_.'"

"Yes, it does," Belle replied patiently, although her patience was wearing thin. Something about this man…

The woman's face wavered slightly but she still forced a polite smile. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Gaston, but I'm afraid I must be going–"

She attempted to step around the hunter but was halted by his arm across the doorframe.

"Where's the fire, Belle?" Gaston laughed; a deep, belly laugh that rattled the bell above the bookshop's door. It made Belle uneasy.

"I'm sorry, I really must be going." Belle pushed her way past the man and ducked under his arm. "Goodbye, Gaston."

Before he could respond, she had disappeared into the shop.

"Who was that?" a voice croaked suddenly. A stout little man had appeared beside Gaston, and he jabbed his thumb in the direction the woman had gone.

" _That_ , LeFou, is the inventor's daughter," Gaston mused dreamily. " _Belle_. She's _gorgeous_. The most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

He then picked up the smaller man and swung him around excitedly, ignoring his shrill cries of protests. When he set him down, LeFou angrily brushed at his lapels and straightened his coat.

Gaston's eyes glinted with mischief; he loved a new challenge.

She would be his wife someday.

–

Shaking off her odd first meeting with the man named Gaston, Belle made her way into the bookshop. The brass bell above the door tinkled her arrival, and the exuberant old man behind the counter appeared instantaneously overjoyed to have a customer; he practically jumped over the counter in his hurry to get to her.

"Well, what a pretty one you are! In all my years…" the man shook his head. "What brings you in today, miss? Picking up something for your brother? Or father, perhaps?"

Belle shook her head; she was accustomed to such sexist questions. " _Non, m'sieur_. I'm looking for something for myself, actually, but I was wondering if–"

"Ah, perhaps a light romance for the young lady!" the elderly man began to lead her over to a shelf covered with dusty, leather-bound volumes. Belle shook her head again.

"Actually, my father and I just moved here, and I was wondering if this town has a library?"

The man froze, the gears in his brain processing her question.

"A library?" His voice was small.

"Yes." Belle shuffled nervously on her feet. "I'm afraid I don't have any money."

The shopkeeper seemed to think for a moment. Suddenly, he threw his arms up high, splaying out his hands in a gesture that Belle couldn't interpret. He was definitely an eccentric man.

"Feel free to borrow anything you'd like. No charge."

Belle gasped at his generous offer. "Goodness, _m'sieur_ , I couldn't ask that of you."

"For a beautiful girl such as you, it is no trouble," the elderly man took her hand then and kissed the back of her palm, giving her a wink from behind his spectacles. "It's not as though people are lining up at the door to purchase my wares in this day and age."

His words rang true; Belle could tell from glancing around that the store had been devoid of any patrons for quite some time.

"Thank you, _monsieur_. You're too kind."

His brown, wrinkle-ringed eyes twinkled at her and the young woman smiled.

Maybe living in this poor, provincial town wouldn't be as bad as she thought. Even her interaction with Gaston hadn't been altogether unpleasant; he seemed friendly enough, anyway. It made Belle optimistic about the direction her life was heading for the first time in a long time.

–

 **Okay, I can't stay away– I had so much fun writing Belle and Gaston I had to do another one. A super smutty one, but still a romance. And I promise updates are still coming for my other fics this summer! Stay tuned.**


	2. Chapter 2

_Two years later_

Gaston was the most unpleasant human being that Belle had ever had the misfortune of knowing.

Over the past couple of years he had pursued her relentlessly. Since that first meeting he had followed on Belle's heel like a lost puppy dog, alternating between propositioning her and proclaiming his own greatness whenever he got the chance. She tried her best to avoid him, but somehow he always happened to be everywhere she was; he seemed to have nothing to do but bother her.

Since the first day they arrived, she and her father had been increasingly cast out from the crowd. Belle knew the townsfolk gossiped about her father's strange occupation– as well as her own oddness– but it didn't bother her much anymore. Those who had been drawn to Belle for her beauty in the beginning were almost immediately repulsed by her reading habit. Now, very few villagers went out of their way to speak to her. She tended to keep to herself, anyway, and preferred it that way.

As a result of her isolation, Belle had fallen into a comfortable routine over time; one that varied only somewhat, typically with the changing of the seasons. Most mornings she awoke with the sun and read in bed for a half hour or so, followed by a bath (where she'd also read), and then a light breakfast– she frequently read at the table. After that would be an hour of watering and feeding the animals– letting the chickens out of the coop, allowing Phillipe and the goats to graze– while Belle sat nearby in the grass and read. Whenever it snowed or was cold, she'd bundle up and read in the barn with a lantern for warmth and light.

After her morning chores, she usually went into town. She'd sell any eggs or milk if she had excess, or would exchange them for bread and cheese. Then, she'd pick up some produce from the grocer, and meat from the butcher if she had enough coin to spare. Belle almost always then made her way to the bookshop, to either return or borrow a book– often, it was both. Sometimes after the bookshop Belle would have to pick up other things, like bolts of fabric for sewing or knitting supplies; since her father had become a widower with her mother's passing, she'd had to take on the responsibilities as the lady of the house, which included tailoring their clothing and bedding when they needed repair. Otherwise, she just went home to cook and clean and read some more.

The only constant in her daily routine was Gaston.

He was so predictable, and yet she could never guess where he'd pop up next, but somehow she saw him every day without fail. Sometimes he walked with her into town as soon as he spotted her on the path, and wouldn't leave her side until she gave him the slip. Other times he'd cut in while she was in the middle of making a purchase, or would wait until she was done to follow her home. He would even come to call on days that she didn't go into town. And he was _always_ talking: about her supposed beauty, his hunting prowess, his trophies, the tavern, his horse– whatever was on his mind at the moment, it seemed.

The one place he never bothered to follow her was the bookshop; it had become a makeshift sanctuary for Belle, and was where she had come to prefer to spend most of her time. It was a nice enough place to get away from Gaston and catch her breath, at least.

The brass bell above the door rang out and Belle stepped through the door.

"Ah, Belle!" the old shopkeeper greeted jovially.

"Good morning," Belle greeted in turn. "I've come to return the book I borrowed."

The man was taken aback but hardly surprised; the young bookworm often burned through a novel a day. "Finished already?"

"Oh, I couldn't put it down," Belle gushed, already reaching for the shelves, running her fingertips along the rows of bindings. "Have you got anything new?"

The elderly man laughed. "Not since yesterday!"

"That's all right." Her chestnut tresses were tied back, away from her face, and the cluster of silky hair swayed back and forth across her shoulders as she teetered on the bookshelf ladder. "I'll borrow… _this_ one."

Adjusting his bifocals, the shopkeeper read the title of the volume the lady had selected and nearly gasped. "That one? But you've read it twice!"

An airy laugh escaped Belle's throat and her voice took on a dreamy tone. "Well, it's my favorite! Far off places, daring swordfights, magic spells, a prince in disguise–"

"If you like it all that much, it's _yours_."

Belle stepped off of the ladder and stumbled slightly, unable to hide the shock from her face. "But sir–"

"You know you're my favorite patron, _mademoiselle_."

"Sir, you flatter me," Belle laughed. She hadn't spent a single coin in the store in the two years since she moved to town, but she often performed chores about the shop in exchange for the privilege to borrow so many books.

"I insist!" The old man pressed the novel into her delicate hands.

"Well... thank you," Belle beamed at him. "Thank you very much!"

The shopkeeper escorted her to the door, touching her lightly on the elbow. Before she could turn to leave, however, he gave the woman a fatherly look from over his spectacles.

"No Gaston today?" On his face was a knowing smirk.

"Not yet," she sighed, suddenly becoming nervous. No doubt he'd be sure to make his appearance soon enough.

"You be careful with that one."

Swallowing thickly, Belle nodded, not quite sure what he meant, but too afraid to ask.

She hugged the book to her chest as she bid the man farewell and exited the shop; this was truly a wonderful gift he had given her. Belle couldn't remember the last time anyone had given her something so lovely and meaningful.

Lost in thought with a dazed sort of smile on her face, Belle made her way to sit at the fountain, excited to read her new treasure.

"Look what I've been given," Belle spoke to the flock of sheep that approached her curiously, showing off her new-old book.

"What a thoughtful gift. Can you believe it?"

One of the animals _baa'd_ in response.

Excitedly, Belle flipped open to the first chapter.

"See, here is where the story starts…" She began narrating the story to the herd, calling out some of her favorite scenes and illustrations. A few well-dressed women nearby shot her a disgusted look before resuming their business; Belle was oblivious to their animosity.

"Oh! Isn't this amazing," she cooed suddenly, turning to a page. "It's my favorite part, because– you'll see."

She turned another page.

"Here's where she meets Prince Charming," Belle pointed out, tapping her fingertip on the paper. "But she won't discover that it's him 'til chapter three."

Belle flipped the page once more, and found something thick sticking out from the book. Upon looking at it, Belle saw that it was a sort of multi-page leaflet, made of many leaves of thin parchment, and no thicker in its entirety than two of Belle's fingers; it was stuck in the binding between the pages. On the front read, in black ink: _Ma Belle Vie_. The author was listed as _Anonymous_.

"That's strange," Belle mused aloud to no one in particular, balancing the book on her lap to pull the pamphlet free. One of the sheep reached forward in an attempt to take a bite out of the object in Belle's hands, but she gently pulled it away. "Why would this be in here? It's almost like someone wanted to hide it."

 _Maybe they were using it as a bookmark._

Upon peeling back the cover, however, Belle was greeted with something she had never seen before in her life: an illustration of a man and a woman, in the nude, mid-coitus.

Most proper young women would be shocked and would look away from such material to preserve their dignity, but Belle was intrigued. She glanced around quickly to be sure that no one was paying attention to her, before inspecting the image further.

The woman was reclining on her back on a sort of chaise sofa, her plump right arm resting over the back of the lounge, her large, round breasts in full view; the tiny dark nipples were pert and at attention. Her left hand dallied with the special place below her belly button, beneath a cluster of curls that resembled Belle's own anatomy, the dainty fingers pinching the flesh there in a way that the young woman had never considered.

A nobleman stood at the end of the chaise dressed in nothing but his wig, stockings, and heels. His bare buttocks faced the viewer, but from such a vantage point his fully erect member was also visible, poking out from his waist. He held the woman's legs open wide to the viewer with his hands.

Belle previewed the following pages, flipping through them speedily, and was surprised to find that there were more illustrations of varying sexual acts, along with an accompanying text for each, like an illustrated anthology of short stories.

It was a booklet full of erotica.

An unfamiliar sensation shot through her abdomen like an arrow. Belle's heart hammered in her chest and she felt her cheeks redden with hot blood. She couldn't read such things out in the open, and she couldn't very well return it to the bookkeeper. Stuffing the pamphlet back into the middle of chapter three, she snapped the novel shut and rose hurriedly, heading towards her home.

–

"Wow! You didn't miss a shot, Gaston! You're the greatest hunter in the whole world!"

Gaston blew on the top of his smoking rifle. "I know."

"No beast alive stands a chance against you," LeFou chortled, stuffing the bleeding carcass into his sack. "And no girl for that matter!"

"It's true, Lefou–"

The hunter seemed to pause.

"LeFou, I'm afraid I've been thinking," he mused to his vertically-challenged companion.

"A dangerous pastime."

"I know," Gaston replied dismissively with a wave of his hand."But LeFou, I'm getting on in age. I'm nearly 25 years along now. I should be getting ready to settle down and sire some sons to carry on my incredible bloodline. It'd be a _shame_ if my talents and good looks died out with _me_. So, I figured it's high time I found myself a proper wife, and I've got my sights set on _that one._ "

Gaston pointed a meaty finger toward the chocolate-haired girl in the sky blue frock passing by. LeFou scanned the town center and was flabbergasted when he realized exactly who he was talking about. "T-The _inventor's daughter?_ "

"She's the one!" Gaston boasted proudly. "The lucky girl I'm going to marry."

"But she's–"

"The most beautiful girl in town–"

"I know, but–"

Gaston snatched LeFou up by the lapels of his coat. " _That_ makes her the best. And don't I deserve the best?"

The smaller man bumbled in fear. "Well, of _course_ , I mean you _do_ , but I mean–"

"Right from the moment when I met her– _saw_ her– I said she's _gorgeous_ , and I fell. Here in town there's only she who is as beautiful as me, so I'm making plans to woo and marry Belle."

He dropped LeFou to the ground, and with a nod of his head, indicated for his minion to follow him.


	3. Chapter 3

Belle almost made it to the outskirts of town without being stopped, clutching her novel the entire way, when Gaston appeared before her.

"Hello, Belle," he cooed.

"Bonjour, Gaston," Belle replied as cordially as she could manage. Before she could utter a word of protest, the aforementioned man snatched the novel from Belle's hands. Her heart leapt into her throat, but she tried to remain calm, so as to not arouse suspicion that anything may be amiss with the book.

"Gaston, may I have my book, please?"

"How can you read this?" Gaston asked stupidly, popping the book open. "There's no pictures!"

Suddenly, he was flipping through the pages. Belle choked on air and her stomach lurched; he was going to find the booklet. The last thing she needed was another reason for the town to talk about her– or for Gaston to shower her with unwanted attentions.

The first chapter flew by in a blur of fluttering paper.

"Well, some people use their–"

The second chapter went by in a whirl. She had to do something.

The page turned to the start of the third chapter. At the last second, Belle jumped up and purposefully knocked the book from Gaston's hand.

"– _imaginations!_ "

The book tumbled lifelessly to the dirt. Belle reached for it but yanked her hand back when Gaston stamped his heavy boot atop the cover, pressing it further into the mud.

"Belle, it's about time you got your head out of those books and paid attention to more important things." He flashed her a toothy grin. "Like _me_. The whole town's talking about it…"

The young woman managed to free the book from Gaston's hold and was now wiping the filth from it with her apron.

"It's not right for a woman to read. Soon she starts getting ideas and... _thinking_."

 _If only you knew the ideas I'm thinking of right now,_ Belle thought. More than anything she wanted to tell Gaston off, but in the back of her mind she was still pondering the erotic images in the booklet.

Belle sighed and shook her head. "Gaston, you are positively primeval."

"Why _thank_ you, Belle. Hey, what do you say you and me take a walk over to the tavern and have a look at my hunting trophies?"

All Belle wanted to do was retreat to her room to read the sordid material in private; her curiosity was definitely piqued– if the tumbling in her stomach was any indication. "Please, Gaston. I can't. I have to get home and..." She quickly drummed up an excuse. "... help my father."

LeFou abruptly burst into a fit of giggles. "That crazy old loon, he needs all the help he can get!"

Gaston joined the pudgy man in the hilarity, hooting and hollering along with him.

"Don't you talk about my father that way!" Belle fumed.

Gaston flipped around and conked LeFou on the head. "Yeah, don't talk about her father that way!"

"My father's not crazy. He's a genius!"

As if to emphasize her point, a deafening _boom_ sounded in the distance, from the direction of Belle's cottage. Unable to contain themselves, Gaston and his minion resumed cracking up and Belle ran off.

 _Damn,_ Gaston cursed inwardly at her escape. She had gone. No matter: he'd surely catch up with her again tomorrow. Hell, maybe tomorrow would be the day he'd finally propose marriage to her.

As he recovered from his laughing fit, Gaston wiped a tear from his eye and looked to his feet. There, with its corner stuck in the mud, was some type of paper. Cocking his head, Gaston crouched to investigate; upon retrieving it from the ground, the hunter could see that it was a booklet. Belle must've dropped it when she dropped her book.

"What's that?" LeFou piped up, his voice coming out as a nasally honk.

Gaston straightened up and stared at the cover; he couldn't read, so the script meant nothing to him. Reading was a silly pastime reserved for powdered, pampered, and perfumed lords, and as a hunter Gaston had never seen any reason to bother to learn such a skill. Opening the booklet to the first page, however…

"My God," Gaston breathed in disbelief, astonished by the imagery. His cock inadvertently twitched and his body warmed. He'd seen illicit papers like these before at the tavern.

"What is it?" the smaller man squeaked. He jumped up and down fruitlessly in an attempt to see.

Gaston flipped to the next page. And the next. And the next.

Belle had been reading erotica.

His prim, proper, well-mannered little beauty had been in possession of obscene reading material. He couldn't wrap his mind around it. Had he been wrong about Belle? Was she actually a loose woman? His future wife could be no such thing.

An idea hatched in Gaston's brain. Maybe this was precisely the opportunity he needed to get her to finally pay him a smidge of attention.

"Come, LeFou," he bellowed. "We're going to pay our little _mademoiselle_ a visit."

–

Nearby, three identical women had observed the exchange between Gaston and Belle with varying levels of jealousy and anger.

"What's wrong with her?" the first one asked incredulously, scrunching her nose.

"She's crazy," the second one spat, narrowing her eyes.

"He's _gorgeous_ ," the third one sighed dreamily.

"Does she really think _he_ wants _her?_ " The second one scoffed, smoothing her hands on the front of her crimson smock. Her face deepened into a dark scowl and her voice lowered. "You know, it's been _weeks_ since he's been by to see me."

Both of her sisters gasped in unison.

"Paulette, you aren't serious?" the third one asked, shocked. Her voice squeaked. The first sister smacked her lips in disdain.

The one named Paulette pursed her lips in response. She would never admit that Gaston had been gradually losing interest in her over the past couple years. Ever since that little _nit_ arrived. She told herself he was just young and distracted; that one day he would wise up and realize that it was time for him to stop chasing skirts and settle down, and who better to be his perfect doting wife and bear his sons than she?

Flipping her honey-wheat hair behind her shoulder, Paulette turned to her sisters. "Claudette. Laurette."

She nudged her head to gesture for them to follow, and together they meandered towards Gaston.

"Good morning, Gaston," Paulette purred, intentionally brushing his arm as she rounded to face him. Taken by surprise, the hunter quickly hid the pamphlet behind his back, causing the leader of the triplets to raise an eyebrow at him.

"Good morning, Paulette," Gaston replied tersely. Followed by: "Claudette. Laurette."

The sisters giggled in unison. Laurette turned a rather unbecoming shade of aubergine.

"My, Gaston, what do you have there?" Paulette asked innocently, leaning to try to sneak a peek behind Gaston's back. The bulky man turned to block Paulette's view.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he lied. The blonde woman narrowed her eyes.

" _Gaston_ ," Paulette admonished, feigning insult. "Why, if I didn't know any better, I do believe that I'd think you're _hiding_ something from me."

"It's nothing that a lady like yourself needs to concern yourself with, Paulette," Gaston huffed. He had grown so tired of her. She was curvy, and luscious in all the right places, and he had definitely been attracted to her at a point in time, but whereas she used to stir something in him when he was a wee green lad, he now only found himself impatient to get on with it whenever they interacted. And the longer he spent standing here being distracted by her mindless drivel, the longer she kept him from going after the true prize: Belle.

"I beg your pardon?" Paulette cried, indignant.

Gaston waved her off. "I didn't mean anything by it, Paulette, you know that. Now if you'll step out of my way–"

He didn't bother to finish his sentence before side-stepping his former paramour and running off in the direction of the path. He didn't even say goodbye.

"How rude," Claudette huffed, crossing her arms. Paulette looked ready to kill. She glared down at the smaller creature called LeFou, who let out a squeal and scurried after Gaston with a start, shouting for him to wait up.

Gaston would be hers again. Make no mistake about that.


End file.
